


My One & Only

by moshiznik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Daddy Kink, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Pet Names, Subspace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshiznik/pseuds/moshiznik
Summary: Harry is a smol precious bub and Draco just wants to love him.





	1. Spanking

**Author's Note:**

> In which I attempt to write smut (and Drarry for the first time!). Let's see how it goes, shall we?
> 
> Originally part of Kinktober 2017...but I'll still chip away at it here and there I promise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry isn't always the best at taking care of himself and Draco struggles to understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little earlier in their relationship, before they live together (obvi).

Harry looked at Draco and could tell he was in trouble.

“Draco, let me ex-“

“Quiet.”

The deep tone followed by the stern look was all it took for Harry to follow instructions. He felt rather foolish, sitting in his living room with his clothes strewn all around him and this week’s worth of take-out boxes piled up on the coffee table.

Draco hates it when Harry doesn’t take care of himself.

Harry follows Draco’s movement around the living room; he’s not touching anything, not tidying up or attempting to clean, just taking stock of the shape his apartment is in.

He doesn’t know what Draco is going to do but he meets that withering gaze with determination and a small hint of trepidation.

The look on his face now is laced with hurt and pain and all of the things Harry hates seeing there, knowing that he is responsible.

“Draco, I swear I-“

“Do you even care?” The words are brief, the last choked out as a single tear slips down his face.

Draco turns away, sniffling into his sleeve as he avoids looking at Harry.

“You know I do. I just…” he just forgets sometimes. And they both know it.

“I know you do.” Draco’s voice is soft and caring and firm all at once. Harry knows he is in for a long night of making it up to him.

Harry approaches him slowly, eyes searching until Draco’s stunning gaze is meeting his and he smiles tentatively, leaning in until they are toe to toe, foreheads touching and breaths mingling.

Draco smiles that knowing smile and Harry leans in to kiss it before it becomes a knowing smirk. He tries to turn the kiss deeper, the feel of Draco’s lips too tempting to fall into and forget everything else, but Draco leans back, their kiss breaking. His strong fingers comb through Harry’s hair, soothing away his whine of protest. He rests his head on Draco’s shoulder, taking comfort in breathing in the familiar, lovely scent that is Draco Malfoy.

Harry nuzzles into his shoulder, shifting forward so that he can slot their hips together. Draco shudders at the feeling of Harry’s erection, his hand stilling in his hair and his breath stopping, if only for a moment.

Emboldened by the reaction, Harry nips playfully at Draco’s neck. He stiffens, tension seeping from him so that Harry pauses and looks up at him questioningly.

A sharp smack startles him from his quiet perusal of Draco’s face. His backside burns even as Draco rubs over the fresh mark soothingly. Harry whimpers, biting his lip and knowing that he really messed up this time.

“Go shower while I clean up this mess. You smell like smoke.”

Harry nods in acquiescence, unsure if he is even able to step away from him. Draco bends forward slightly, grazing his lips across Harry’s cheek, up his temple, resting them briefly on his forehead before he nuzzles down his nose and over his lips, finally placing a chaste, placating, reassuring kiss there.

“Now go before I change my mind and spank the ever-living life out of you right now.”

He really can’t explain what those words do to him. How his body goes numb and his heart starts beating so fast, too fast. He wants it, he really does. And Draco knows it.

“Please,” he asks, voice soft and begging, but only a little.

“Go.” Draco meets his eyes, voice hard. “You have to learn to take care of yourself. We’ve talked about this.”

“Draco, that’s not-.”

“I said go, Harry. Or did you not hear me? Maybe you don’t deserve…”

“Okay! Okay, I’m going.” Harry’s heart falters at the cool way Draco turns from him, as if he has already decided that he isn’t deserving.

“Draco, I’m sorry, I-“

“It’s okay, pet. Just do as I ask.” The words center him and he loves it. Thrills at the loving way Draco looks at him, places his hand on Harry’s back so that he’s almost preening.

“Baby, please go shower. I can join you in a minute?” Draco’s worried gaze makes him worry that he really has messed something up. Draco only looks at him like that when he knows Harry is in trouble - like life-threatening trouble, not _sexy_ trouble.

“I’d like that.”

Draco nods, leaning in to place a sweet but demanding kiss on his lips before he pushes Harry away.

“Go.”

Harry nods, a small smile followed by a hint of a blush that he tries to hide by turning away.

“I want you fully prepped by the time I get in there. Do you understand?”

Harry does and he quickly hurries down the hall to the shower, all too eager to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no *actual* spanking. I'm not much for pain.... O.o But I hope that the hint was good enough to fulfill the "prompt."


	2. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Drarry's first kiss! :3

Harry doesn’t quite remember how it happened. All he knows is he never wants it to stop.

 

Because even though Draco had been glaring at him with eyes as hard as stone, mouth a thin line of _anger_ and _hurt_ and _venom_ , his lips on Harry’s are _soft_ and _sweet_ and _responsive_.

 

Harry thinks he had moved forward, taking that last tiny step so that the biting remarks spewing from Draco’s mouth, about Harry’s- well, he can’t quite remember. Because, honestly, he had stopped listening and started watching. Intently.

 

Draco had a way of saying everything and really nothing at all. The most important things he said, and did, Harry had always found them in the dark, hidden. Unbidden.

 

Because even though they had hated each other since they were eleven, he knew that everything had changed.

 

The war had changed them. That final year at Hogwarts had changed them. Everything had fucking changed them and Harry was so. _Restless_. Anxious. Fucking out of his mind with how much he _burned_.

 

Because he wanted Draco and Draco wanted him and it was written in every furrow of that posh brow across the 8th year common room, filled with too many people and too much distance. It was evident in every small _hmmm_ and sordid _mmhmmm_ as Harry told him about his day, Draco never bothering to act like he paid attention but somehow always randomly following up about this or that that he had mentioned a week ago, sometimes a month.

 

Because he was the Savior, and Draco the Death Eater.

 

But it just doesn’t matter.

 

Because Harry had taken that last step, had been standing not but ten inches away from Draco who had looked like he was ready to push him even though Harry knew he was really just _upset_ about Harry’s story. _Upset_ that another random person had approached him on the street, while he was running some errands for George, and had all but grabbed him, a tight grip on Harry’s arm as they, like the countless others before them, thanked Harry for saving the world and yet demanded to know every last detail of Riddle’s defeat.

 

Upset was not a word that Harry would have associated with Draco before everything changed. At least not in this capacity. Because now Draco wasn’t upset _with_ him, he was upset _for_ him.

 

Draco hummed into the kiss, grabbing ahold of Harry’s waist as if he needed to _anchor_ himself to him. As if he didn’t want to ever let go.

 

Harry couldn’t help but like it. He had initiated the kiss but Draco was leading it, and boy did he like that. He liked it so much that he grabbed Draco’s stupid silver-blonde, fucking-perfect hair, and yanked.

 

“Fuck,” Draco broke away, looking down at Harry as if to chastise him when all it really did was show him that Draco liked it. Was _amused_ by it. Amused by Harry.

 

“Mm, I don’t think you’ve quite earned that.”

 

The words hang between them. Ripe with _opportunity_ and _meaning_ and _desire_. So much _desire_.

 

Draco shivers. Harry smirks.

 

“Why don’t you tell me just how one might earn it, Potter?”

 

And fuck it all if Harry doesn’t want to just drop to his knees and suck Draco off right there in the middle of the street.

 

Because even though Harry refused to admit it to himself, he wanted Draco. In a way that left him _aching_.

 

He had never really clicked with anyone. Sure he had loved Ginny and had thought they had _something_. Who the hell couldn’t love Ginny, who was strong and kind and beautiful. But it just hadn’t worked out and that was that.

 

Harry should have seen this coming. Should have seen Draco coming. The wet dreams that had started halfway through 8th year hadn’t exactly stopped in the past four years. It didn’t help that what had started as brief glimpses of genuine smiles and soft eyes had turned into daily staples of his life.

 

Draco and Harry had always been obsessed with each other. And nothing, in that regard, had really changed. If anything it shifted and transformed into something more solid, more real. Like whatever antics they had gotten into their first six years had all been leading to this _friendship_.

 

But Harry didn’t want another friend. And he really hoped that Draco didn’t either.

 

“Well,” Harry said, biting his lip and loving how Draco’s gray eyes honed in on the movement, “One might just need to be a gentlemen about it and actually...” And here he paused, because he really didn’t know what to say. What to do. He was trying to act cool calm collected, but he was anything but and they both knew it.

 

He may have defeated the Dark Lord, but flirting was a whole other matter.

 

Draco smiled, the hesitancy in Harry’s eyes apparently the best fucking thing he’s seen all day because all of a sudden he’s leaning in, that too big too bright smile right in Harry’s face and he’s blinded. Blinded and completely turned on.

 

Because Draco looks like a cat ready to pounce, and Harry is all too sure that he’d _like_ it.

 

“How about,” Draco starts, his lips brushing past Harry’s cheek and settling on the curve of his ear, “I convince you? Tell you why it might be worth your while.”

 

Harry’s pretty sure his eyes roll back into his head, and not from annoyance. He’s so _so_ ready to hear what Draco has to say.

 

“I think,” Draco all but purrs, milking this for all it’s worth because Harry is fucking _responding_ , “that I might just tease you...but only a little.”

 

Harry whimpers. He actually whimpers.

 

“Aw, would you like that, _Potter_?”

 

He may nod, he’s not too sure at this moment because his pulse is racing and his blood has all rushed south. To his cock.

 

“I want to make you come so hard you can’t. even. think. straight.” Draco’s lips brush against his ear, his breath moves his hair. Harry is so fucking done for.

 

He gasps, desperate to make Draco just as gone as he is..., “Well, yeah. I’m fucking _bi_.”

 

There's silence...but then Draco’s laugh is like music to his ears and Harry wants to barf at the cliché but also can’t help but feel a little…happy…about the fact that he made Draco laugh. Not some random bloke. He. Harry Potter. The boy-who-saved-the-world or whatever the fuck they call him. Made Draco Malfoy. The boy-who-was-a-death-eater and, more importantly, the-scared-boy-that-saved-Harry’s-life-turned-best-friend or whatever the fuck they were. _Laugh_.

 

He had made Draco Malfoy laugh and it was the best thing since sliced bread. (Does Draco even know what sliced bread is?) Harry’s inane thought is interrupted, rather rudely, by Draco’s rushed whisper, “I want you so badly, Potter. _Please_.”

 

Well _fuck_. Harry is fucked. Because there is certainly no turning back now and he didn’t even think he had that good of a chance to begin with.

 

He grabs Draco’s robes and pulls him in until their lips are crashing together and he is _moaning_. Completely gone and utterly wrecked.

 

Or at least, he hopes he’ll be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late my dudes but it's been. A. WEEK. a long ass week and i'm. Tired.


	3. Public + Biting = Biting in Public ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drarry are all. over. eachother.
> 
> Specifically, at this moment, on Ron & Hermione's couch. Really, boys?

Draco makes the sexiest noises. In Harry’s very humble, unbiased opinion. Even the most basic grunt is so very very sexy that Harry can’t help but try to hear it again and again and again.

 

“Potter,” Draco hisses warningly, his hips jerking up and into Harry while his hands grip his hips to keep him still. Because they may be alone but it’s only a matter of time before Ron and Hermione come back into the living room.

 

At the first opportunity he got, aka the very instant that their friends had left the room to go check on the baby, Harry had jumped him. Literally jumped onto him.

 

Draco had his lap full of Harry. A very persistent, horny Harry.

 

Harry didn’t heed his warning, needing to not waste time talking and use every second available to him to drive. Draco. crazy.

 

He was so very very _grateful_ , after all.

 

Not only had Draco gotten him a present earlier that morning, he had demanded Harry use it.

 

He had been so happy to see another toy, a muggle toy at that. One that was sleek and shiny and sexy as hell. The little contraption buzzed in its box and Harry looked up in shock.

 

“It has a remote,” Draco drolled, pretending to be bored but Harry knew. He always knew when Draco was excited. Because he was excited too.

 

“I think you mean, you have a remote.”

 

“No, baby, I have the remote _control_.”

 

Harry blinked at him, wondering if Draco even knew that there was a muggle pun hidden in there. And then Draco smirked, and Harry _gulped_.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

He nodded dumbly, feeling the vibrations increase and hoping beyond all hope that they would have time to use this gift before they had to be at Ron and Hermione’s for Christmas dinner.

 

That was then. When Harry was oh so young. Oh so naïve.

 

This is now. When Harry has been _literally_ vibrating for the last two hours.

 

‘It’ll be fun,’ he’d said. ‘It’ll be so sexy,’ he’d begged. ‘You’ll be so _good_ ,’ he’d whispered.

 

Sometimes, Harry really hated how much he loved him.

 

But right now, he couldn’t really think. Couldn’t even process anything that was around him because he was desperate. Desperate to come. Desperate to make Draco ache and want and fucking out-of-his-mind just like him.

 

Carefully, Harry leans in further, scraping his teeth along the long white column of Draco’s neck. He can see his pulse beating and can’t help but smile, knowing that Draco is so so turned on.

 

“Harry, don’t,” he says warningly, knowing what comes next but not doing anything to push him away. Instead, he grips Harry’s hips tighter; moves his neck back further.

 

Harry dives, the tight collar of Draco’s dark gray turtleneck pushed aside so that he can _bite_ into that beautiful beautiful flesh.

 

Draco breathes through the pain, a sigh of “Merlin, yessss,” almost making Harry come. But he’s too good for that.

 

Draco, seemingly done with all pretense of remaining neutral in the proceedings, moves his hands, one to Harry’s neck as if to keep him there, the other to his pocket where he-

 

“Shit,” Harry groans, his mouth dislodging from the now reddened skin on Draco’s neck as the vibrations in his ass go much too high to be considered anything less than torture. _Blissful_ torture, but torture all the same.

 

“Do you like your present, pet?”

 

Draco knows that he does so Harry doesn’t bother with a response, just dives right back in and bites the shit out of his too beautiful, too bare neck.

 

“Mm,” he moans, once again arching his neck back and gripping on tight to Harry’s hair. “I knew you would. You always like my presents, hm?”

 

And it’s true; Harry does. Because their first Christmas as friends was back at Hogwarts and Harry had been amazed by the sheer number of gifts on his bed. He had never. In his entire life. Gotten so many presents. But now it seemed like it would be the norm for the boy-who-lived turned boy-who-saved-the-whole-wizarding-world.

 

He had never been like Dudley. He had never expected hundreds of presents for every occasion. And everything that morning had been too overwhelming.

 

Ron had been flabbergasted by Harry’s reluctance to open everything. But after looking through the first few, that were from people he had never met, he had felt... odd... out of place. Because these presents were all for him but they weren’t anything he actually like... or cared for... or wanted.

 

All he wanted, really, was the basics. The new lovely, warm sweater from Molly. A random book from Hermione. A gift from Ron that they would inevitably enjoy together.

 

He didn’t feel...comfortable...with all of these gifts. It didn't feel _normal_. And Harry really needed normal after so much crazy.

 

Ron, thankfully, took it upon himself to open every last one. Harry had become numb to it, instead taking the time to read through the book on Forgotten Magic that Hermione had given him. They were in their room for so long that eventually Hermione joined them. Followed closely by Draco.

 

“Wow, Harry,” Hermione had said, no doubt curious as to why her boyfriend was opening all of his presents. She joined Ron, looking through the pile of items and helping him to sort through everything. Harry could vaguely make out a pile for cards, a pile for candy, and well. That was all he really cared to look.

 

It was overwhelming.

 

Draco’s eyes had widened when he entered the room and, Harry, who was so not interested in paying attention to those gifts, instead turned his full attention to Draco, his new friend. Well, his enemy-turned-friend-turned-crush, but Harry wouldn’t think too hard on that.

 

“Quite the spread you’ve got there, Potter.”

 

“Draco, _please_ , it’s Harry.”

 

Harry felt like he told him this everyday, and everyday it seemed to make Draco’s lips curl into a soft smile and his eyes warm. He liked that.

 

“Merlin, give up. It’s habit, Potter and you know it.”

 

Draco strode forward, sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed and thrusting a small box into his hands.

 

“This is for you, not that you need anything else apparently.”

 

The last bit came out sounding like a pout and Harry raised his head, looking over at the stash of presents that Ron and Hermione were now ignoring in favor of staring lovingly into each other’s eyes and talking quietly.

 

Harry shrugged, “I don’t really care about all of that stuff,” and proceeded to open the box. Inside, there was a delicate silver dragon with green eyes. It was some kind of metal but Harry had never been good with that so he just assumed it was silver. The figurine moved in the box, its miniature scales catching the light and its eyes shining brightly.

 

“I’ve had this little guy since I was young,” Draco says, his voice soft. Harry glances up and can tell from the look on Draco’s face that this present has _meaning_.

 

“I, uh, always thought it protected me from the monsters under my bed,” he paused as if he felt foolish for even admitting that. Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He loved learning more about Draco. _This_ Draco.

 

 _His_ Draco.

 

“Mother says that I used to carry it everywhere, but I don’t remember that. I just know that he always made me feel safe. Special. And I, uh,” he paused as if realizing that he was rambling and Christmas presents don’t really need an explanation other than it’s Christmas. “I don’t really need it anymore and it felt strange leaving him at the Manor after everything,” he swallows, pausing to look up from the little dragon and meet Harry’s eyes, “everything that happened there. You know?”

 

Harry nods, smile wide and chest tight with a warmth he hasn’t ever quite felt before, “Thank you, Draco.” And Draco smiles.

 

So yes, ever since that first gift Harry has truly always loved Draco’s presents. Because Draco gives him so much but somehow, and Harry might just be suspicious enough to think it’s sheer magic, Draco knows Harry like the back of his hand and always gives him the most thoughtful, sweetest, dorkiest, loveliest, honest-to-Merlin priceless gifts.

 

And he loves it. Loves _him_.

 

He loves that he knows Draco almost just as well. One thing he knows for certain is that Draco is a kinky bastard who loves Harry all riled up and _wanting_.

 

And Merlin does Harry want him right now.

 

Harry licks over the indents his teeth have made in Draco’s skin and Draco _shudders_. This, of course, encourages Harry and he grinds their hips together while sucking vigorously on Draco’s neck. Somehow, if it’s even possible, the vibrator starts to pulse. Harry’s cock is throbbing and he really just wants to come so so badly but he knows he has to wait for-

 

“Oh my god, Harry!” Hermione shrieks.

 

“Dammit,” Harry whines, curling into Draco’s neck and letting Draco pat his back consolingly. He was _so_ close to coming and now he’s just... ruined.

 

Draco says something that doesn’t quite register with Harry and before he knows it that familiar pulling feeling is at his navel and he grips onto Draco tightly as they apparate back home.

 

“I love you,” Harry breathes, voice filled with relief and sweet sweet anticipation.

 

Soon the buzzing in his ass stops and his clothes disappear. He is still latched onto Draco, his teeth no longer attached but his whole body wrapped around him.

 

“Hm,” is all Draco says, that supercilious tone going straight to Harry’s over-sensitive cock and he comes. Right then and there.


	4. Begging (for that Bukake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a hard day at work and Draco knows just what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Harry isn't triggered per se but he does have a hard day at work and ends up dropping (into subspace) as a way to cope, so just a head's up that there will be some of that and some after care too.
> 
> Draco is a very good dom so there is no noncon here or anything of the sort going on.

Work had been rough. Okay, work had been utter _shite_. But when wasn’t it? Dealing with dark wizards was something that he was getting really really tired of. Didn’t people have better things to do than be assholes?

 

He could feel the bad day in his bones, weighing him down and just... making him feel so low and so not like himself. It felt _wrong_ on a very deep level.

 

“Harry?” Draco called out to him from somewhere in the house, but Harry didn’t say anything in return, just shut the door behind him and proceeded to take off his shoes and robes.

 

Draco had found him, a dish towel in his hands and his shirt sleeves rolled up. A vision of domesticity that washed over Harry like a balm. It was strange how even just the sight of Draco, all relaxed and smiling, could make him feel so… right.

 

Harry didn’t respond, just continued to stare. He felt his shoulders slump, his head drop and just like that Draco was right there in front of him. Filling up his vision and making the world begin to melt away with just one look, one gentle touch on his cheek.

 

“Rough day, pet?”

 

Harry shuffled forward, pressing his head to Draco’s chest and just _sagged_ into him. He knew that Draco got it, got him, and that he really didn’t need to say anything because Draco just knew. In the way that he always seemed to know just what Harry was thinking, feeling, _needing_.

 

Draco kissed his hair, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s back and arms in a familiar non-pattern. Just fulfilling the need to touch… to _comfort_.

 

“Let’s go upstairs, hm?”

 

He didn’t pull away, instead snaking his arms around Harry so that they were wedged together. Harry loved the way Draco just knew that he couldn’t be separated from him, that Harry needed to touch Draco, to _feel_ Draco.

 

With every fiber of his being, he needed to just... _be_ with Draco.

 

Draco was saying something else but Harry wasn’t listening. His brain had disengaged and he was just floating. It was like he had already dropped into subspace, but this was much much different.

 

Dark. Isolated. Lonely.

 

All of the things he couldn’t feel at work that came crashing down on him and he just…couldn’t handle it. Didn’t want to handle it.

 

Draco was still speaking, in that low calm voice that Harry found so sexy. The rich timbre of his voice soothed him, the soft caress of his fingers up and down his side centered him.

 

He leaned into Draco’s touch, chasing after his fingers, wanting them to dig into his flesh and never let go. Harry could feel his need, like embers burning in his belly, the all too familiar need he has for Draco to take control of him, to _own_ him in every way imaginable. But Draco’s touch remained distant, just skating on the surface of his skin.

 

His desire for Draco, to tell Draco what he needs, bubbles up in him until he moans, trying to find the words but unable to process anything coherent in his current state.

 

“Sh, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

 

 _Yes. Draco is here. He is here and he’ll take care of everything._ The words echo in his mind and Harry is relieved when the burning in his abdomen lessens.

 

His head is foggy, his limbs slightly numb as if he is having an out of body experience. He doesn’t remember the last time this happened, but the soothing cadence of Draco’s voice soothes the tickle of panic that had been at the back of his mind.

 

“Harry, lay down please. That’s a good boy. There, let’s get you all settled.” The words are comforting, awash in routine and familiarity. This is _after_ Draco, the one that knows exactly what Harry needs to come down from a scene. The one who takes care of him with soft commands and soothing touches.

 

Harry sinks into the scene, a little dazed that they haven’t actually had sex nor done anything to cause him to drop. But, as Draco gives him a cool drink of water from his cup on the nightstand and then proceeds to lay down next to him, covering them both with their comforter and dimming the lights, he knows that that’s exactly what has happened.

 

Draco is still talking to him, telling him about his day and asking him questions although Harry doesn’t bother to answer. This doesn’t bother Draco and he continues on, twining his fingers through Harry’s hair while his other arm remains planted over his chest, simultaneously anchoring Harry to the bed and them to each other. Harry needs this, needs the constant chatter and the light touches and the heavy weight of Draco’s arm to remind him that he is here, in this moment.

 

The minutes tick by and Harry can feel himself start to come back, bit by bit. Surely this is longer than it has taken for him to return to himself after any scene they’ve ever done, but the thought is just a passing one, something that he knows he should think about deeper but that he doesn’t have the wherewithal to do so at this moment.

 

Draco’s breath continues to move his hair, his chin resting on the pillow next to Harry’s head as he mumbles nonsense, lips moving and fingers twining. Harry smiles at the sensation, a little ticklish and a lot endearing, and he moves his right hand up, grasping at Draco’s strong forearm like the lifeline that it is.

 

At the touch, Draco stops talking. Harry whines at the loss but Draco only chuckles, shifting slightly so that he can look him in the eyes. He rests his forehead against Harry’s and Harry melts, soaking up the cherished, concerned look in Draco’s gaze.

 

“Hey there,” Draco says, his usual greeting after Harry comes out of subspace.

 

“Hi,” Harry’s voice cracks but only slightly. The word is a sign, telling them both that he’s here with Draco and not off floating in space.

 

Draco stares deeply into Harry’s eyes and he looks like he has so much to say, his jaw works and Harry just watches, eyes tracing over the strong jawline and the delicate skin.

 

“Let’s get you something to eat, shall we?” The tone is firm but there is still a question in it, one that Harry knows he is expected to answer.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Draco smiles at this, leaning in to place a pleased kiss onto Harry’s waiting lips. “Good boy,” he breathes against Harry’s lips, dipping in for one last kiss before he gets up off the bed and waits for Harry to follow.

 

~

 

Harry wolfs down the grilled cheese sandwich that Draco had set in front of him, his eyes tracking Draco as he makes one for himself. He loves watching Draco cook, loves knowing that even though he complains about it, Draco loves making food for Harry.

 

Draco turns the stove off, setting his grilled cheese on a plate and turning around so that he’s facing Harry. Harry can feel his mouth water at the sight, Draco in a dark turtleneck with his work slacks a little rumpled from laying in bed. His broad chest stretches the shirt just enough that Harry can see the definition of his muscles and he feels that familiar burn return. His desire to have Draco is insatiable, even after such a weird and emotionally taxing day.

 

Draco returns his stare as he eats, an amused lift to his eyebrow as if he can read Harry’s every thought. Harry licks his lips and can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Draco’s grey gaze darkens and he sets down his half-eaten grilled cheese before leaning back onto the counter and staring him down.

 

“Harry,” he says warningly, face pinched with concern more than annoyance.

 

Harry slides out of his barstool, walking around the island and striding confidently forward until he is nose to nose with Draco.

 

“Harry, we need to talk about this-“

 

“Later,” Harry interrupts, stepping forward into Draco’s space until their hips are flush and his hands are gripping those strong arms.

 

“No, we need to talk about this Harry,” Draco is shaking his head, looking down at Harry with so much love and longing, but also a hint of uncertainty. “I won’t do anything to you until I know what happened.”

 

Harry looks up at him unflinching as he leans up and into Draco’s space, defiantly watching Draco’s gaze turn dark as Harry disobeys.

 

“We can talk later,” he says softly, placing a soft kiss on Draco’s face between each word, moving from his strong chin up the side of his face until his lips are hovering over Draco’s.

 

The looks of concern doesn’t leave but Draco knows Harry, knows when he’s being serious and when he’s avoiding something, and Harry is grateful that he can tell that Harry does want to talk about it, but later. Much much later.

 

The familiar heat returns to Draco’s gaze and he stands up straight, the few inches he has on Harry not really mattering as he all but towers over him, commanding his full attention. Those strong hands detach from the counter and Harry shivers, licking his lips and keeping his eyes locked Draco’s so that he won’t miss a single second of that searing gray gaze. Draco traces over the veins in Harry’s arms, both hands following the same path causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. His hands stroke over Harry’s shoulders, thumbs massaging his collarbones through his shirt in a continuous path until his hands are both tangled in Harry’s untidy hair and Harry groans at the sensation, head tilting back as those strong fingers pull lightly and tilt his head back further.

 

“What’s your safeword,” Draco demands, voice deep and oh so decadent.

 

“Basilisk,” he breathes, voice wavering in anticipation and need.

 

“Good boy,” the praise rolls so promisingly off Draco’s tongue that the words cause Harry to instantly harden, his cock thick and full and aching.

 

“Please,” he begins to beg, “please, Draco. I’m a good boy, please.” Draco’s fingers tighten in Harry’s hair and his breath hitches.

 

“Oh, pet. What do we say when we’re together like this?” The question is biting but also hesitant, as if Draco is still asking Harry if he’s really okay, if he really wants to do this after what had happened earlier. His heart sinks and he knows that he needs to reassure him that he’s okay, that they’re okay.

 

He opens his eyes, head still bent at an awkward angle but needing to see Draco when he says, “Daddy,” making sure the word is laced with love and desire and reassurance.

 

Draco’s reaction is instantaneous, his grip loosens in Harry’s hair and he surges forward to kiss Harry deeply.

 

“And what does Daddy’s good boy want?”

 

Harry groans at the question, loving the way that Draco commands him, reminds him that they’re in this together, that he’ll give Harry anything he wants to make him happy. There are so many things he wants but right now he just needs to feel Draco, to have him above him, in him, around him. To taste him and anchor him; to mark him and let Harry remember that he is Draco’s and Draco is his.

 

“Can I suck your cock, Daddy?”

 

Draco looks at him carefully, gaze steadily taking in every inch of Harry even though his body is taught, ready to give into any whim that Harry has. Harry feels a thrill run down his spine at the thought.

 

“Please, Daddy?”

 

The second request seems to reassure Draco because he nods, looking right into Harry’s eyes so that he knows they are making this decision together.

 

“Of course, pet.”

 

Harry preens at the endearment, accepting the kiss that Draco leans in to give him but impatiently breaks away after a few seconds and drops to his knees.

 

“What here? You don’t want to go back to the bedroom?”

 

“Here, daddy,” Harry looks up at him, those long legs going for miles and miles until Harry is salivating, ready to beg to get what he wants, “Please daddy. I’ll be so good, I promise. I need you, need your cock.”

 

“ _Merlin_ , Harry,” Draco swears and Harry smiles, leaning forward until he is nuzzling at Draco’s clothed erection.

 

Harry moans at the hardness, loving that Draco is just as into this as he is. “Daddy,” he whines, tongue slipping out to press against the soft fabric of his expensive pants and salivating when he comes across a wet spot, Draco having leaked precome at some point. The thought does heady things to Harry and he can barely restrain himself from just _taking_. But good boys wait and he needs to hear Draco say it, needs to know that he can do it.

 

“Merlin, _Harry_ ,” Draco repeats but this time says Harry’s name like it’s a curse. Harry realizes that he’s been saying everything he’s been thinking aloud and can’t help but blush, shyly looking up to see just what Draco thinks of his slutty boyfriend now.

 

“I love you so much, baby.” Strong hands cup Harry’s face as he leans down to kiss his forehead. Harry melts into the affection, his body singing with approval as his mind thrums with need. Need for Draco, need to show Draco how much he loves him, needs him, wants him.

 

“What’s your safeword, baby? I need to hear you say it.”

 

“Basilisk,” Harry answers, making sure that his voice is even and there’s no trace of doubt or anxiety in the word.

 

“Okay, you can suck Daddy’s cock.”

 

A thrill shoots through Harry and his own cock leaks, forming a wet spot on his pants. “Thank you, Daddy.” Harry leans forward again but he’s stopped by the strong hands on his jaw.

 

“Tell Daddy how much you want it, pet.”

 

Harry whines, embarrassed but all together too eager to care. “Please daddy, please. I want your cock so badly.”

 

The heat in Draco’s gaze is scorching as he continues to look down at Harry, hands keeping him in place even as Harry begins to shift from side to side, desperation leaking into his words and limbs as Draco makes him wait for it.

 

“And what do want to do to Daddy’s cock?”

 

“I- I,” Harry stutters, his brain going a million miles a minute as he thinks of all the things he wants to do. He doesn’t know where to start the thought is paralyzing, the desire to please Draco and answer his question and suck his cock has him overthinking and he-

 

“Sh, pet, it’s okay. Ask nicely and Daddy will give you anything you want, you know that. Daddy loves you.”

 

The words wash over Harry like a balm and his panic fades, he looks up from Draco’s still clothed erection to meet his gaze and sees the love and affection there. He licks his lips, “I love sucking your cock, Daddy.”

 

“I know, pet. And you’re so _good_ at it. So good for Daddy, hm?”

 

Harry nods, mirroring Draco’s. Draco is looking down at him as if he is the most precious thing in the world and Harry’s whole body hums with pleasure.

 

Draco removes his grip and begins to move away, out of Harry’s grasp. He begins to panic but Draco knows just what to do, just what to say to calm him.

 

“It’s okay, pet. I’m just going to take my trousers off so they don’t get dirty. You wouldn’t want to get Daddy’s trousers dirty, would you?”

 

Harry shakes his head. _No he does not want that. Daddy loves his nice work trousers, they’re so soft and expensive and-_

 

“Hey there,” Draco is once again in front of him and his hand has returned to Harry’s neck, once again anchoring him to the moment. “Are you okay, pet? Do you need something? Anything?”

 

He isn’t sure how Draco can always tell when he’s getting stuck in his own head, but the words are a gentle reminder that Draco’s here, that he won’t leave him. He shakes his head, smiling up at Draco and turning his head to kiss lightly at his forearm.

 

“My good boy,” Draco praises, and Harry melts.

 

“Daddy, please,” his voice is urgent. He just wants to have Draco in his mouth, to please him and thank him for being just what he needs.

 

“Well what’re you waiting for?” And with that Draco leans back, bum resting against the counter top as his arms remain loosely at his side so that he can easily reach out and touch Harry if he needs to.

 

Harry licks his lips, loving the sight of Draco just leaning there, looking so casual and so ready for him to just take what he needs. He traces his eyes down slowly, trying to take in every inch of Draco like this that he can, loving the way his dark turtleneck clings to him and contrasts with his skin, the way it rests just slightly above his hipbones and only accentuates the way his cock is standing up straight and proud against his chest, the head rubbing into the fabric.

 

Harry dives in, instantly taking the head into his mouth and gripping onto Draco’s firm thighs, digging his fingers into the warm flesh as he tongues at the hardness in his mouth.

 

“So perfect for me, aren’t you, pet?” Draco says, his voice strained and reverent as his head is cocked back and his eyes are closed as if he can’t help but to sit back and enjoy the ride.

 

The thought makes Harry proud and he continues to suck and lick and bob until he tastes the salty bitterness of precome and he chases the taste, tonguing at Draco’s perfect slit until he feels Draco buck and he chokes.

 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, pet. You’re just so good for me. Being such a good boy for Daddy.”

 

Harry hums, accepting his apology as he continues to suck at Draco’s cock. His daddy’s cock is a work of art, something he wishes he could lick and suck all day long. He loves having Draco like his, all tall and towering over him even as he slowly comes undone in Harry’s mouth. The soft pants and the endearing curses are music to Harry’s ears as he begins to play with Draco’s balls, licking up and down his hard dock while gently caressing and stroking his sack.

 

“ _Merlin’s pants_ , Harry.”

 

Harry purrs, he knows that Draco must be close. The thought causes him to pull back, a loud pop echoing in the near silence as Draco bucks into the air seeking out Harry’s warm mouth.

 

He looks down, pupils blown and face blissed out but concern etched between his brows. “What is it, pet. Did I hurt you? Are you-“

 

“Daddy,” Harry whines, leaning in to kiss his cock in a way that hopes soothe Draco’s anxiety. “I want you to…” but he can’t bring himself to finish his request, suddenly feeling shy under the knowing look on Draco’s face.

 

Draco’s gaze hardens and Harry gulps.

 

“What do you want, baby? What do you want from Daddy?”

 

Harry whines, unable to break eye contact although he is desperate to do so. He squirms in place, moving from side to side and biting back a moan as he feels his own erection caught tight beneath his pants.

 

“Tell Daddy what you want,” Draco’s command sinks over him and Harry looks back up, knowing that Draco will expect eye contact.

 

Draco looks so perfect like this, so blissed out and ready to come that Harry can’t even remember why he was embarrassed in the first place. He made Draco look like that.

 

“I want you to come on my face.” Harry watches Draco’s reaction as he takes in the request, and feels a small thrill go through him when he sees the steely resolve in his eyes.

 

“Of course, pet. Anything you want.” The words make Harry want to mold himself into Draco and never let go, but he stays in place, waiting for Draco to make the next move.

 

Draco takes his hard cock into his hand, the length still wet from Harry’s spit. He begins to stroke his cock, moving his hand up and down, slowly at first but then faster and faster as he maintains eye contact with Harry, a silent determination in his gaze that is overshadowed by pleasure.

 

Harry watches, mesmerized by way Draco’s cock looks, all red and flushed and leaking. He loves the way that Draco’s strong, capable fingers wrap around his thick girth, hiding the veins and ridges from sight even as he moves up and down again and again until Harry feels like he’s been hypnotized. He must have seen this sight a million times but it never gets old.

 

“Are you ready, pet?” Draco asks, voice barely held together as his face reddens with the desire to come.

 

Nodding, he looks up to see Draco’s face, opening his mouth slightly in anticipation right before he closes his eyes, signaling that he’s ready. He hears Draco curse silently, feels him still before him as warm cum shoots onto his face in spurts. Harry sighs, leaning up and into Draco’s space as he feels cum splatter onto forehead and cheek, some getting into his hair and barely catching the corner of his eye. He groans at the sensation, wanting Draco to know how much he loves this.

 

Draco groans too, dropping to the floor next to Harry and leaning forward, drawing Harry’s face to his and kissing him deeply, passionately. Harry feels his body sag, having come at some point in the last few minutes and loves the way that Draco’s litany of soft praise once again washes over him. He never has to tell Draco what he wants, at least not know that they’ve both come and are both sated.

 

A warm tongue moves along his face, licking from the dark corners of his mouth and following the path of cum that his cock had just left.

 

“So perfect for me.”

 

Harry preens at the words, letting his mind wander as he feels Draco’s strong arms encompass him, drawing him forward into his familiar heat as he begins to drift.

 

“Let’s get you taken care of, hm?” Draco doesn’t wait for a response, not really needing one after so many years together, learning what the other needed.

 

“Love you,” Harry manages, pressing a sloppy, grateful kiss to whatever part of Draco’s body is within reach before the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are <333

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted to my tumblr [moshiznik.tumblr.com] under the tags #kinktober2017.


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